A Summer Holiday in Scandinavia

BUT to return to our journey. At Sevre we found a horrible little station, with no accommodation at all for travelers, and rather stupid, unobliging people, who welcomed us with the only too common news that they had no horses, and did not think they could get any. But of course P. persuaded them to think of it again; and by persuasion and a little compulsion got them to acknowledge that there were two horses in the stables, and we might have them. Two horses were better than none; but we wanted three. The people were obdurate, and declined to cede another animal; so at last P. was forced to offer the owner of a tired steed one specie dollar (much more than the proper price) for the use of his horse to the next station. This horse, when we subsequently started, led the way, and kept up such an excellent pace that we had no reason whatever to regret the bargain.

It must be an extremely unpleasant and even distressing position, that of a station-master on one of the most frequented high roads during the summer season. To receive all day long an insatiable, hurrying, struggling line of tourists of all nations, each of whom wants a horse, and immediately, or dinner and tea equally at once, must indeed be distraction. Those who have read Mr. Wilkie Collins's "No Name," will remember how the unfortunate Mrs. Wragge is driven mad, or nearly so, from the awful strain which her position as waitress in a London tavern puts upon her mind; how at last she succumbs under the vain efforts she makes to keep in mind the multitudinous orders of hungry City gentlemen all coming in at once, and demanding anything and everything impatiently. If the unfortunate Mrs. Wragge was to be pitied, a Norsk station-master in July and August is also deserving of compassion. Horses are angrily called for by tourists, who tramp up and down his courtyard and threaten him with the law, and write severe sentences in his "dag-book;" while in the background Ms neighbors, the farmers, probably are entreating him not to call out their cattle for public service. Surely he must wish the attractions of his country, which bring such exigent tourists, at the bottom of the sea. In considering his troubles, we certainly thought that when persons arrive late at a station through which travelers have poured all day long, and find the smooth, morning-temper of the landlord worn rather thin and threadbare, he deserves a little indulgence; and, in fact, P. always leaned as lightly as possible upon such a bruised reed.

Quitting Sevre about six o'clock, or even later, we had very little daylight left for the two remaining stages which we needed to pass before making Gulsvig, which place we hoped, if possible, to reach that night. We enjoyed the sunset extremely as we drove along by the quiet river, now expanded into a broad shallow lake whose waters came often up to the very brink of the road. Three of us, at least, had seen the sun rise that day; but now we watched, if possible, with greater admiration, his setting, and to me it seemed that

We noted the hills around as they changed from red to purple and grey; and followed the river, a short time before brightly gilded in the light, now softly banded with purple shadows where the reflections of the hills stretched across its darkening surface. The effect of the change from the brilliant daylight to the darkness of a quick-falling evening was very curious and striking, reminding me -- to use a commonplace comparison -- of that instant in a theater when the curtain rolls down for the last time, and, after a momentary scuffle of departing feet, the gas is turned low, and the boxes and stalls, lately resplendent in crimson and gold, are covered over and shrouded with dull hangings.